


Precipice

by RednReady



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RednReady/pseuds/RednReady
Summary: A few ramblings exploring Reddington in 4a. Starts during the search for Agnes. Goes off script shortly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. Well, that I've posted anyway. Probably won't turn into a full blown story.

Rejection. Rejection that cut so deep there were moments it took his breath away. That she would be so desperate to be rid of him, to be "free."

He had known she wasn't fond of the security measures he'd put in place, but had it been that bad? Had she resented his efforts to keep her safe that much? Had she felt that trapped, that threatened by his presence? It broke his heart to think that she had.

He tried to understand. She was trying to protect her child. He himself had done terrible things to protect the people he cared about. But the residual agony he felt from watching her die and standing over her grave made it incredibly difficult.

Only a few weeks before her wedding she had kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for saving Tom. How could he have known that she was so on the edge, that she would soon take drastic measures to escape him? That she would later return from the dead and continue on, as if she had no concept of his pain. And maybe she didn't.

He knew that she was panicking that day, that her instincts were screaming at her to keep her child away from all danger, and he was dangerous. But so was Tom, the man she trusted, the man she clung to.

Tom, the man Red had tried over and over again to warn her about. Tom, a man whose own dangerous past would surely rear its ugly head in her life again someday. Only this time a child would be impacted, not just Elizabeth. Raymond wanted more than that for her. Couldn't she see that?

Even so, he had come to the realization that he needed to let Elizabeth make her own choices. Even if his experience told him they were the wrong ones. He couldn't lock her up in an ivory tower. All he could do was give advice and be there for her when things inevitably fell apart. It was the hardest thing in the world, to let her make those mistakes, knowing the pain it would cause. But what was the alternative?

He knew his world was dangerous. So was Tom's. So was Elizabeth's. But he couldn't tell her all the reasons why. The important things, the things she really wanted to know... they would only put her in further danger. He had killed many people to prevent her from knowing. He would bear her hatred as well.

Reddington watched from across the room as she brought the task force up to speed on their latest lead on finding Agnes. She looked beaten down and extremely tired. No joy left in her eyes. Such a contrast to the lively young woman who'd nervously walked down those stairs to meet with the Concierge of Crime.

Is this where his good intentions had led? To this hell for the both of them?

Perhaps Kate had been right. For the first time he wished they'd succeeded. That Tom had gotten away with Agnes. That Elizabeth was somewhere in a happy home in Cuba, away from all this.

Away from him.

He was still angry, still wounded beyond words, and yet guilt threatened to consume him.

Agent Keen finished her presentation and glanced his way. Red quickly turned his attention back to the screen. He pretended to listen to Ressler's predictable speculations as he nursed the ache deep inside.

He longed to hold her, to reassure himself that she was warm, alive.

He wanted to run from her, to hide from the hatred in her eyes. To turn his face away in the shame that accompanied such extreme, public rejection.

He could do neither. At the moment he could do nothing but both bear and rejoice in her presence from an arm's length as they continued the search for her daughter.

It thrilled him that she was there.

He could barely look at her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now off script. I'm not really defining why he cares so much for her. I'll leave that to tptb. Suffice it to say, he does.

_"I know you feel betrayed..."_

The words haunted him. It had been two weeks since he'd dispatched with Kirk and delivered Agnes safely back to her mother's arms. Two weeks since he'd taken one last look at the two of them before slipping quietly away. He hadn't said goodbye. He hadn't told anyone goodbye. Sooner or later they'd figure it out.

Red stared into the fireplace and nursed his glass of scotch. He hadn't been to this safe house in years. It was one he'd acquired during one of Dembe's absences, a place in Liberia not far from the coast. Red had been avoiding any place that his old associate would know. He couldn't imagine that Dembe suspected anything was out of the ordinary just yet, but Red had survived all these years by treading on the safe side.

He realized now it would have been better if he were careless; better if he had died. Last week, last year. Twenty years ago. Perhaps he should have followed Katarina into the water. If he could go back in time knowing what he knew now... well, perhaps after rescuing Dembe. Or after that family he'd saved in Dresden. Or the bomb he'd dismantled at that train station in Sweden. Or the nuke he'd managed to wrest from insurgent hands... Yes, after that. After that, he should have hung himself.

Raymond scoffed and poured himself another glass. Who was he kidding? A death wish he may have, but suicide was something he would never seriously contemplate. Death by hail of bullets was more his style. It no longer mattered who it was that fired them. Any old enemy would do. Perhaps he would go down to the docks and pick a fight with the band of pirates that he knew.

That would be poetic, no? Raymond Reddington, former Naval officer, killed by a band of pirates. Only with his luck, he would probably win. There'd be nothing but a bunch of dead pirates.

_"I know you feel betrayed..."_

The flames swam before him through unshed tears. He'd watched as the person he loved more than life died in front of him, and all she'd taken from it was that he must feel _betrayed_? As if she were nothing more to him than a business associate who'd accepted a competitor's better offer.

Two weeks since he'd seen her for the last time. Two weeks of flurry as he'd dealt with his business and planned his next move. Two weeks before he finally sat alone in a house on the other side of the world and allowed himself to grieve.


	3. Chapter 3

He could still clearly hear the ruckus going on two floors below. The arms dealer he'd just made an unholy amount of money doing business with had been eager to celebrate. Red made an appearance and tried to lose himself in the wine, women and song, but found himself unable. He'd slipped away early, confident that none of his wasted fellow criminals would notice his absence.

Now in the relative calm of the guest suite, Reddington splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection. He barely recognized the hollow shell looking back.

He couldn't recall ever feeling so dead inside. He had experienced gut-wrenching loss and grief, but never had he lost complete hope. He realized now that pinning everything on a woman who could never really know him and wanted nothing to do with him had been beyond foolish. But it had gotten him through some of his darkest days - the knowledge that she was somewhere in the world. Happy. Safe.

Until she wasn't.

He wished now that he had left at the first opportunity. That Elizabeth could have resumed normalcy after Berlin with a boost to her career and a fascinating story to tell. But there always seemed to be some new danger and the closer he got, the harder it was to let go. He would have spent his last days happily dismantling every evil he'd ever encountered if it meant having her dismantling by his side.

But she clearly wanted nothing to do with it. He'd managed to protect her from some dangers, but in the process only brought her more pain. It seemed he would only ever be poison to the ones he loved. His wife and daughter. Katarina. Elizabeth.

He had placed his second chance into her hands because she had been hurt by the mistakes of his past. She was the only innocent left who could forgive him. She had chosen not to.

So this was his punishment. He was confined to the hell he had created for himself. Kate was gone; he would never see Elizabeth again. He had even lost Dembe. Or rather, he had attempted to preserve the memory of what he had with Dembe by cutting himself off.

He had told Dembe to go home, spend some time with his family. That he would call him when he needed him again. Raymond had no intention of ever doing so. He felt himself standing on a precipice and the last thing he wanted was to take his brother down with him.

He wanted Dembe to remember him like he was. And he wanted to remember Dembe looking at him without disappointment or resentment in his eyes. Because there was no longer any room for hope. Raymond Reddington was a monster, and a monster he would always be.

Red dried his face with a towel and caught his reflection again. An older man with no more hope for the future stared back at him. Yet there was still one more choice that could be made.

He could waste what was left of his pointless life building up his "empire" only to leave it all to the vultures when he inevitably caught a bullet to the throat.

Or, like another blinded, condemned fool of old, he could push mightily against the pillars and bring the entire damn structure crashing down on top of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure where I'm going after this, tbh. Will wait until the muse hits me upside the head.


	4. Chapter 4

Six weeks passed and Reddington made no contact. By itself, not much cause for concern. He had disappeared for weeks before. But never without mentioning he had business. Never without a hint of when he would show up again.

When Cooper asked, she speculated that he was cleaning up after Kirk and would be in contact sooner or later, but Liz couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Tom began to pester her about leaving again, but money was an issue. They were tied to D.C. until they could build up some savings. They ended up staying in the warehouse a lot longer than they had planned, but eventually they procured a small apartment once the paperwork came through and Liz was officially an FBI consultant again.

With no blacklisters to chase down Liz spent most days at home with a colicky Agnes while Tom looked for work. Between the screaming baby and the ever-escalating shouting matches brought on by the stress and lack of sleep, Liz didn't have much time to think about Red at all. She'd thought that being on the run was tiring, but this? This was a whole new level of exhaustion. She would never think less of stay-at-home types again.

She was so focused on trying to piece a life together that Reddington honestly hardly crossed her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The colic finally went away and Tom took a job at Halcyon. Something about it didn't sit right with her, but she tried to be understanding. He said it was so they could make a lot of money in a short amount of time. They could get out sooner, buy a house somewhere and live the dream. Liz suspected that was only part of his motivation, but she was too busy catching up on her sleep to care.

With sleep came dreams. Nightmares. Liz suspected it was her subconscious finally trying to process all she'd been through. In some she never woke up from Nik's drugs. In some Kirk jumped to his death with Agnes in his arms. In others she was a killer. Connolly, her father... Reddington. She would sometimes wake with a scream in her throat and the feeling of blood on her hands.

On one such night she stumbled to the kitchen, unable to get back to sleep. When she poured herself a glass of water, she noticed her hands were shaking.

Two months and no contact from Reddington, no new cases. Panabaker called and Liz finally dialed "Nick's Pizza." Her heart dropped at the automated voice telling her the number had been disconnected.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much for resolutions.

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the light. He groaned and tried to sit up, head pounding. He was on the floor, empty bottles and room service dishes strewn about. He dimly recalled the company of two leggy brunettes. From the looks of the hotel room, and himself, they hadn't gotten far before he'd passed out.

His shirt was unbuttoned, but his pants remained intact. He took a moment to care that he may have been killed in his sleep, or had his wallet stolen. But the moment passed quickly. What did it matter, really, if either one of those things happened? He was more concerned about his money. Existence would be unbearable without the means to dull it.

Fortunately, he found nothing missing but a few twenties on the nightstand. No, his watch was gone too. Oh, well. It wasn't his best watch.

He chuckled, still slightly drunk. The past three weeks had been a blur. After his resolution to take down the system, he'd found his way back down to the party. He couldn't recall exactly what happened, but he woke up stark naked in the bushes by the pool. Thankfully everyone else seemed to awaken in similar disgrace and his reputation hadn't suffered. The next night at dinner, Raymond had regaled his host with tales of the previous evening that he really couldn't remember at all.

After dinner he'd departed, his spirits somewhat lifted and resolutions temporarily forgotten. He drank his way through Europe, making sure to avoid anyone Dembe would know how to contact. He took in live shows and convinced more than a few beautiful women to accompany him to his room at the end of the night. Two days ago he'd arrived in Paris.

The first night, as he took in a ballet, he recalled the last time he'd been there. It was a rendezvous with Josephine. Thoughts of her stirred a curious sensation in his champagne-riddled mind:  shame.

Josephine had always regarded him far too kindly. She'd seen a man who always tried to do what was right, even if it ended in blood and death. What would she think if she saw him now?

A man hiding. Hiding from scorn, hiding from pain. A man who'd left the few people on this earth who might still have a care for him without a word. A man who'd spent the last three months throwing himself a world class pity party. "You're many things, Raymond, but I never imagined that you were a coward," he could practically hear her say.

Guilt crashed in upon guilt. Was there any end to it? For what he'd done to Lizzy. And then for leaving her. He had to admit to worrying. What if she was in danger? How would he ever know? But if he kept an eye on her, he wouldn't be able to stay away. Not anymore. His own weakness, that was the biggest roadblock to her safety. His inability to come to her aid and then leave her alone. 


End file.
